Red Herring
by mikymowse
Summary: "Don't you see? He chose her. He'll always choose her." Carol Peletier never planned on falling in love with a redneck, nor did she ever plan on trying to survive the zombie apocalypse. Now, she finds herself doing both, and she's not sure if her feelings can ever be reciprocated. Caryl - T for now, but might change.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay guys! Here's a new one I've been thinking on for a while! The first chapter is a little short, but I want to know what you guys think. Let me know- everything's appreciated!**

**All characters belong to AMC, I am just borrowing them! **

**Cheers! **

* * *

Daryl stood by the fence, the blistering sun beating down on his shoulders as he killed walkers with a sharpened wooden stake. His brown hair flopped in his face, and it seemed like he was always pushing it back out of his eyes. His toned arms were bronze from always working outside, and his eyes were squinted in the bright light. His trademark Horton Scout HD 125 crossbow was never far off, and it stood propped up against the fence now as he grasped the wooden stake tightly, stabbing another walker.

As he yanks the stake back out of the walkers face, blood splatters the front of his shirt. He curses slightly under his breath and sets the wooden pole down, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands as his stomach growls.

Carol had been down working the fence with him and she looks over at him now as his gut groans. She smiles a little and folds her arms. "Someone's hungry." She grins. "We're running low anyway. Feel like a little hunting?"

Daryl smiles and raises his hand a bit, blocking the sun from his eyes. "I think I feel like kicking your butt." He grins and grabs his bow.

She rolls her eyes and smiles. "Sure." She says, looking around. "Which way should we go?"

He sighs a bit and points to the main gate. "Too many geeks over there." He turns and looks towards the bridge. "Over by the bridge is probably our best bet. Get in. Get out."

She nods and they begin to walk over. They cross the bridge and he pulls the zip tie free, making the hole in the fence pop open with a snap. He holds the fence open for her to slip through and she looks at him, ducking under. "When did Daryl Dixon become such a gentleman?"

He scoffs and ducks through. "When did ya become such a smartass?" He grins, tying the fence shut behind them.

She laughs a little and stabs a walker that ambles over. "I learn from the best." She throws back with a grin.

He rolls his eyes and loads his crossbow, chuckling a little. "Ain't you a peach. C'mon smarty pants. We ain't got all day and those squirrels damn sure ain't waiting." He says, slinging his bow over his shoulder and walking towards the woods.

* * *

A little while and a lot of squirrels later Carol sighs and folds her arms. "Well Mr. Dixon, you seem to have run this round of squirrel hunting."

He grins. "D'ya think ya can beat all o' this?" And makes a sweeping gesture over himself.

Carol laughs. "You had your moment. Don't get cocky."

He chuckles and they walk in silence for a few awkward minutes. Daryl avoids looking at her until she speaks up.

"So, uh, you and Michonne are a thing now?" She says, shuffling her feet a little and looking away, trying to hide the blush that had crept up onto her cheeks.

Daryl arches an eyebrow and stops, turning to face her. "Michonne?" He asks, a little incredulous. "That whatcha think? That her and I are...?" He trailed off questioningly, unsure of what to say.

Carol blushes fiercely and avoids his gaze. "Well, I mean, you've been spending a lot of time with her and you guys are perfect for each other. I mean c'mon." She says, kicking a pebble with the toe of her boot.

He pauses a moment and then takes a step closer to her, reaching out a hand slowly and putting it under her chin. She flinches when he raises his hand and he freezes, but she relaxes and he pulls her chin up gently to look at her. "So ya think I got a thing? For Michonne?"

She avoids his gaze, looking anywhere but at his face. "Don't lie to me. Please don't. They all have. I just need someone to tell me the truth for once. Just once."

He moves and struggles to meet her gaze, but holds it once he finds it. "Ya want the truth?"

She nods, biting the inside of her cheek.

He sighs a little and closes his eyes for a moment before speaking quietly. "You're the only one I've looked at since this all went down. The only one I really cared about." He takes a shaky breath and continues. "And when that son of a bitch would put his hands on ya, God, how I wanted to bash his skull in for it."

She looks up quickly at him and her gaze wavers.

"Ya gotta give yourself credit. C'mon. You're such a kind, beautiful, caring woman and you've done stuff that, hell, I couldn'ta done. First I thought I had to protect ya, now I know that all I gotta do is care. Sophia, I cared about her like she was my own, cause I care about ya that way." He sighs. "And it took an arrow to the gut and a near bullet to the brain to realize I'd do whatever it took to get her back for ya."

She blinks quickly and swallows hard, but he continues.

"I could care less about Michonne, cause I just want ya." He says, leaning in slowly.

Her breath hitches and she closes the gap between their lips, pressing their mouths together. He sighs a little and she closes her eyes as his arms come around her waist. Her hands reach up tentatively to play with his hair as their mouths move against each other.

He pulls away gently and leans his forehead against hers. She smiles and pulls him in close for a hug, and he leans down into it. "Ya don't know how long I've waited ta do that." He whispers.

She smiles and laughs once, blinking rapidly. They stay that way for a few moments until a walker stumbles out of the woods. Daryl sighs and raises his bow, shooting it quickly. "C'mon. We should probably head back. Don't want anyone to get suspicious."

She nods and smiles a little, and they walk back in silence, Daryl reaching out to lace her fingers with hers.

"Daryl?" She says quietly as they walk, making him stop to look down at her. She takes a deep breath. "I- I think I might love you." She whispers.

He smiles and squeezes her hand, putting both hands on her cheeks. "I love ya too." He says, kissing her quickly once more. "Think I always have." She smiles and they walk back hand in hand, her lips turned up and a goofy, crooked smile painted on his face.

* * *

**Thats all for now, folks! Pop by and let me know what you thought. I'm looking for a Beta if anyone is interested. :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**As promised, here is chapter 2! I will try to update as often as I can, but I wanna start out with a strong base. :) Anyways, here we** **go! **

**I do not, sadly, own The Walking Dead, I am just borrowing!**

* * *

The days following their kiss had been quiet for the most part. The run for more medicine, which everyone at the prison was in desperate need of, had been a success, and they had even been able to ward off some of the coughing bouts in C-Block.

Whatever they were had been quiet too. Daryl still shared small smiles with her, and now more than ever the occasional touch to her elbow, or the tips of his fingers lingering on her shoulder, and several times more they had kissed, although a peck on the lips stolen under the cover of night wasn't exactly what she imagined. She figured one of the guys had said something, or whoever was on guard had seen them that day by the fence, maybe scared him away.

So when he showed up at the door to her cell, eyes downcast and hair flopping in his face, Carol couldn't help the smile that broke out on her lips.

She climbs quickly out of bed to meet him with a soft, "Hey," which makes him smile.

"Gotcha somethin'," he hums in reply, fishing around in his pocket for something.

The prospect of him getting her a gift sets her cheeks afire and makes her heart thrum. No one had ever really gotten her a gift before, certainly not Ed. It makes her eyes sting and she forces a smile, looking up at him. "You-" she swallows a little, "you didn't have to do that."

Now it's Daryl's turn to blush and he shuffles his feet, some unruly strands of brown hair flopping in his eyes. "I know," he shrugs, "but I wanted to." He holds his hand out to her, unrolling his fingers to reveal a small, pale green stone with a leather cord run through it. "It, uh, it's jasper. S'posed ta mean good health or somethin'. Figured this way, 'f I ain't around I can count on something ta keep ya safe."

The tears that had been pooling in Carol's eyes spill over, rolling down down her cheeks. She reaches up to quickly dash him away and his eyes widen. "Shit- I- I didn't mean ta make ya cry- I just-"

She shakes her head quickly and throws her arms around his neck, not caring for the moment who gives a damn. "No, no! It's beautiful. I just- no one's ever given me a gift before." She whispers, leaning her cheek on Daryl's shoulder.

She hears a snort from him and his arms tighten around her waist. "Bout damn time then."

* * *

They had stayed that way for a while, wrapped in each other's embrace before moving over to the bed. Daryl lay down with his back against the wall and Carol climbed in in front of him, scooting up to his chest and playing with the stone around her neck.

Neither of them said much, Carol laying quietly with her eyes closed as Daryl played with a small curl by her ear, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

After a while she breaks the silence. "Daryl?"

He must have been half asleep because he was still against her back, and when he spoke his voice was groggy. "Yeah?"

She rolls over to face him, looking up at his face, bringing a hand up to rest on his cheek. "What is this?"

Daryl sighs and sits up a little, leaning on his elbows. "What do you want this to be?" He asks, eyebrows knitting together.

She shrugs. "I don't know. You, me, just us. Normal."

He kisses her forehead again and the knot in Carol's stomach loosens. "That's all I want too," he murmurs and she smiles brightly, nodding a little.

"Good." She says quietly and then stretches, sitting up. "The rest of the group is probably wondering where we went," she says with a smile, "but I'll see you later."

Daryl nods and gets up too. "Course," he says, and then he's gone again, the curtain by her cell fluttering.

* * *

After an uneventful day, the group had all retired to their respective cells, the quiet summer air buzzing with cicadas and crickets. Daryl sat watch in the watchtower, fiddling with some crossbow bolts.

Everything was normal until he saw a plume of dust rise in the distance, like smoke. His eyebrows knit together and he stands, grabbing the binoculars to look at the disturbance. A truck?

"The hell-" a gunshot and the screeching noise of metal on metal shatters the night air and Daryl yelps, flattening himself against the wall of the watch tower. No doubt the shot had woken everyone else, he could already see lanterns flickering to life.

* * *

The unmistakable sound of a gunshot jolted Carol awake in her cell, sending her reeling for her knife and the lantern on her bedside table, leaping to her feet and dashing for the end of the cell block, where everyone else was milling about, bleary eyed and confused.

"What's going on?" Glenn asks, hair mussed from sleep and his hand curled around his knife.

Rick shakes his head, loading his gun. "Daryl's on watch. It could just be a walker."

In her gut, Carol knew that was wrong. She pushes her way forward. "No. Daryl's too smart for that," she argues, "the sound would just draw more."

There are a few murmurs of agreement and Rick opens his mouth to speak again but is cut off by a loud grinding noise. A look of fright ripples through the group and Rick is off running, Carol hot on his heels.

* * *

He thunders down the stairs, not even bothering to look for walkers as he runs for the fences.

The fences. The screeching. Walkers were pouring into the yard. Daryl's heart leaps into his throat as he throws himself into the torrent, trying to shove the weight of the fence back up. He could see the flashing ends that were torn open and frayed, splitting inward like a gash. They were too clean- cut. Someone had cut the fence.

* * *

Rick watches Daryl enter the fray and curses, tossing himself against the section of fence nearest to him. "Carol!"

She whips around to face him, breathing heavy. Rick just thrusts his chin towards the other side of the yard where Daryl was struggling with the fence.

With a silent nod Carol runs that way, heart thudding. She finds him among the mass of undead and shoves her shoulder up against the fence next to Daryl. "Are you okay?" She shouts, groaning under the weight of the fence, feeling the herd pulsate and move against her back.

She gets a nod in return from Daryl and he opens his mouth as if to speak. "The fence is-" then his eyes widen and a shadow materializes behind his shoulder, tall and lean.

Chills dance down her spine and Carol freezes. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" The voice is all too familiar and makes her breath hitch.

Daryl's Adam's apple bobs and he watches her, mouthing something: 'Go.'

The Governor steps around Daryl, keeping his rifle trained on him and laughs. "Thanks for keeping the place so neat," he grins, looking around for a moment before pulling the trigger and sending Daryl reeling forward into the dirt with a shout, blood pooling at their feet. "So sorry to barge in, but we've come for what's ours."

* * *

**Eek! There it is! *crawls slowly away to hide in a cave* Don't kill me for hurting him! I promise it will get better... Maybe ~_~ **

**Let me know what you thought! **

**Cheers! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 coming your way!**

**As usual, I own nothing! **

* * *

"DARYL!" The only thing Carol could hear was the ringing of the gunshot, and all she could see was his blood on her shoes, pooling on the ground.

She watches, her own voice droning in her ears as men grab Daryl by the arms, yanking him up and into the back of a truck, his head lolled to the side. She is only vaguely aware of hands on her own arms as she's dragged, kicking and screaming, into the truck, the doors slamming shut behind her.

As soon as her knees connect with the cold metal floor of the truck, Carol scrambles over to Daryl, pulling his head into her lap and dropping her ear near his lips. Warm breath stirs the hairs on her cheek and she felt like laughing with joy, quickly moving to inspect his stomach, pressing her hands firmly to the gunshot, which was bleeding heavily.

She knows she has to stop the bleeding somehow, but Carol also knows she has to see if the bullet had exited Daryl's body. Rolling him over as gently as she can, Daryl runs her hands up and across his back, feeling for an exit wound. Nothing.

Cursing under her breath, she lays Daryl flat again and pulls up his shirt to look at the wound, freezing at the scars latticed across the hard planes of his stomach and up across his chest. She had seen his back before, but the sheer numbers of his pain ailed her. Carol shakes her head to clear the thoughts and presses the rag Daryl always carries on him to the hole in his abdomen, being as gentle as she can while still applying adequate pressure.

As she works on cleaning out the gunshot as best she can with the limited resources she has, Carol hears a small moan and quickly looks down at Daryl. No. No, no, no! Her mind races. He was just alive! She was gonna save him!

With wide eyes, Carol shives herself away, pressing her back to the wall, fingers feeling for anything she can use as a weapon.

Daryl groans again, stretching and then moaning louder. "Fuuuuuuck..." She hears him under his breath as he goes still, quivering in pain, and relief floods through her.

"Daryl!" She half slides back over to him as the truck bumps, rattling them around. All she gets in answer is a whimpering groan. "Oh my God, are you okay? Don't move!" She whispers frantically, pressing her hands to his stomach again, making him writhe in pain.

Daryl takes a shuddering breath, gasping in short bursts to keep from moving so much. "Wh-what-?" He breaks off with another groan as the truck lurches again and Carol winces, imagining his pain.

"The Governor... He and his mean came back. They- they shot you. Try not to move too much," Carol whispers, checking his wound again. "The bullet's still in you. I can't get it out yet."

Daryl groans again and slips back into unconsciousness.

* * *

By the time the truck rolls to a stop, Carol's hands are soaked with Daryl's blood, and he is still in and out of consciousness. It's light out when the doors are yanked open, and Carol's eyes instantly squint, trying to get used to the sharp change.

She can make out the form of two men standing outside the truck, their silhouettes hazy black blobs against the bright morning sky.

Then there's hands again, and she's crying out Daryl's name as they drag him away, her feet unable to free her of the vice-like grips of the men detaining her.

She's tossed into another cold room, concrete hard and unforgiving beneath her hands and knees as it bites at her skin.

Carol crawls across the room to huddle against the wall, wrapping her arms around her knees with a small whimper, examining her hands and flicking away some grit. There were rusty stains on the wall that she preferred not to question the origin of, and there was a hard cot in the corner, a piss pail next to it.

Suppressing a shudder, Carol hides her head in her hands, trying to ignore the cold wall at her back and beneath her, tramp down the fear in her gut.

She could only hope Daryl would make it until she could figure out a way to get them out of this situation.

* * *

He couldn't breathe. His chest was tight and his lungs would only take in hiccuping gasps, sending his body into a series of rhythmic convulsions and tremors.

Daryl groans again as cold cuffs are clamped around his wrists and he's shoved into a chair. Red spots the edges of his vision and his shirt clings to him with cold sweat and blood.

Forcing his head up, Daryl lifts his face just in time to catch a right hook to the jaw, sending his chair teetering but not tipping, and making his head whip to the side.

Suddenly, there's a hand clamped around his chin, jerking his head back and up, letting his spinning vision settle on the form of a tall, young man in front of him, the Governor himself loitering in the back by the door.

Another blow is delivered square to his nose and Daryl yelps as blood gushes from his face, making him spit and gag.

"You can end all of this," the voice is silky smooth, with an underlying tone of I-like-to-eat-dead-kittens-for-breakfast.

Daryl spits again, steeling himself as his vision settles and he's able to look around. There's silence, and then it's broken. "Nothing to say? Carlos will get you to talk."

The kid winds back his fist again, driving it into Daryl's gut and making him cry out in agony, his anguish rebounding off the walls and rattling in his ears as a new fire burns in his abdomen.

Daryl whimpers gently, his vision going black as the pain overtakes his mind and the fist connects with his gut again. As he lets the darkness consume him, Daryl is vaguely aware of the sound of a door opening and feminine cries- then it all goes black.

* * *

Carol hears Daryl's cries from down the hall and there's no mistaking the raw pain in his screams. Her heart aches and she curls up in a little ball on the bed, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

As the unmistakable sound of a fist on flesh claps through the air again, followed by more gut wrenching noises from down the hall, Carol curls herself tighter, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to block everything out.

She hears the sound of a door opening, but she's too busy trying to hide from the world to realize that it's her own, until a pale swath of light washes over her and she freezes, not moving.

"Get her. Maybe we'll convince him to talk another way."

* * *

He looks like hell. Actually, hell looks a hell of a lot better than him. His face is raw and bloody, with the textural appearance of road kill, and sweat drips off of him, making him shiver.

Carol's eyes widen when she sees Daryl, and she freezes, every fiber of her being reeling in fright at what had become of her friend.

"Oh my God..." Tears well in her eyes as Daryl lifts his head to look at her, eyes swollen almost to the point of being unable to open, lip fat and purple, blood covering his face.

And still, he manages a smile. "Can't 'mag'ne th'ssis doin w'nders fer mah good looks." And still, she manages a wet laugh, rushing to help him, wishing she could ease his pain.

Carol wipes at his cheeks as gently as she can, and still he winces. She sighs sadly and mutters an apology as the door opens again and the Governor steps in.

"How touching." He smirks, voice dripping honey and venom. "I hate to interrupt this little moment, but I need a favor." In a split second he draws his gun and press's it to Carol's forehead, making her blood run cold. "And I have a feeling you two are going to help me, or Mr. Dixon's gonna have an up close and personal look of just what goes on in that pretty head of yours."

* * *

**Dun dun dun! Will Daryl cave? And what exactly does the Gov want? *to the Bat Cave* the readers shall never know (at least not yet)!**

**Reviews are welcome (and encouraged)!**

**Cheers!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! We're back with another update! **

**Before we start, I just wanted to let you all know that A, I am still looking for a beta if anyone would like t help, and B, if you would like the latest news on when my stories will be up and posted, both here and on Wattpad, you can check out my new twitter account, fixbymikymowse !**

**I also should probably let you all know that there will be some more mature scenes in this chapter (blood, some character torture, etc.) so if that's not your thing feel free to skip this chapter, although it is an important development one. **

**Don't forget, reviews are love! I'd really like to know how many people are interested to see where this story goes. :) **

**That's all for now! Enjoy, and my apologies for the long wait! I have a lot going on.**

**Again, I sadly do not own The Walking Dead. All credit to AMC.**

**Cheers!**

* * *

Daryl's eyes widen and his teeth clench together, grinding back and forth of their own accord. He struggles against the handcuffs, his already raw wrists beginning to bleed again.

Carol's throat runs dry and her hand goes slack on Daryl's shoulder, her eyes wide and frightful as she looks at the Governor, who inclines his head and pushes against her head with the gun, making her take a few shuffled steps to the side, fresh tears on her cheeks again. She can't even hear the feral half snarl that comes from Daryl- the only sound is the rush of her blood in her ears. "What do you want?" She manages to whisper, her voice meek and shaky.

The Governor smiles, eyes flashing. "That's simple." He states, rolling his shoulders in a shrug as if they were having a casual conversation. "I already have the prison," there's another growl from Daryl as he realizes that they have no idea if the rest of their family is safe, "and now I want Michonne."

Carol's eyebrows knit together and she licks her dry lips, trying to buy time. "Why?"

The Governor's lip curls up in a sneer, his eyes narrowing. "She killed my daughter, my Penny," he snaps, pressing harder on her head with the gun, making Carol stumble backwards until her back is against the wall, the cement cold at her shoulders, seeping into her bones and making her shudder.

In a brief moment of remembrance, Carol feels a pang of sympathy for the man before her, relation even, but it's soon wiped away when the cold metal of the barrel of his handgun digs into her head. She opens her mouth to speak, but The Governor cuts her off again. "And that's why you're going to bring her here."

He takes the gun away from her head and turns back to Daryl, stalking over and yanking his chin up, meeting Daryl's snarl with a smirk of his own. "And before you say I _can't_ make you, I _will_." He lets go of Daryl's bloody face and turns back to Carol. "You. You'll stay here until I receive what I want."

* * *

They had dragged her off, back to the same old room with the creaky bed and rusty tin bucket, and they had tossed her in, bolting the door shut behind her. As she dragged herself up onto the bed, trembling slightly, Carol lay on her side facing the damp wall, watching a few beads of moisture snake their way down the concrete, leaving a dark trail of what she could only hope was water in its wake.

She could hear noises from the other rooms, some more powerful than others if she closed her eyes. The Governor's voice, clipped and deadly droned on in one of the nearby rooms, along with more guttural wails from Daryl. Farther away, she could hear the snarl and growl of walkers, faint but ever present. With a dry sob, Carol curled further in on herself, trying to ignore the sense of impending doom looming over her shoulder.

They would make it through this. They had to make it through this. Maybe they could buy more time, hold out for as long as they can. But they would get through this. Carol can feel it in her gut, she won't leave Daryl behind and she sure as shit hopes he won't leave her with this madman either.

* * *

The blows came fast, and they came hard. Unrelenting. Daryl was doubled over, groaning in pain at the nows waves of agony that washed over him. His mouth was parted slightly, and a thin stream of blood worked its way down to the floor, clinging to the concrete as it hung from his battered lips.

The Governor paced back and forth in front of Daryl, a gleaming, unused knife clutched in his hands. When he stopped his relentless patrolling, the Governor crouched in front of his prisoner, running a finger down the edge of the blade. "This could get a whole lot worse before it gets better."

Daryl squints up at him painfully, breathing labored. He undoubtedly had a broken rib, and every bit of movement pained him. But that didn't mean he wouldn't fight this bastard like hell.

The Governor smiled again and stood up. "Fair enough," he says, turning and driving the blade down right above Daryl's knee cap, making him scream out again. "I _will_ get my answer." He snarls, leaving the knife there.

Daryl gasps, staring down at the knife in his leg, mind spinning. His gut heaves and he leans over the side of the chair, retching what little bit of fluids are in his stomach, which just causes more pain to the gunshot

wound. Clenching his jaw, he leans his head back, trying to focus on his breathing.

"Still got nothing to say?" The Governor grabs the hilt of the knife and twists it crudely, widening the gash on Daryl's leg and grinding the blade against bone, baring his teeth in a half snarl, half smile as Daryl cries out again, staring down at his own leg. "You have the power to end all of this," he whisper sadistically, "but I hope you know that if you choose not to help me, I'll let my men warm up to your lady friend. Been a while since they had some good company."

As images of all the terrible things this man and his group could possibly do race through his mind, Daryl's stomach drops. He can't just leave her to be tortured by these men, but at the same time, how is he supposed to just give up one of his group. "I'll do it," he grits out through clenched teeth, "on one condition."

The Governor arches an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

Daryl leans in close, managing a glare as best he can, face messed up and crooked. "If you or your men lay a hand on her, I will personally chop off all of your fingers and shoot you in the dick."

* * *

She figured it was about mid afternoon, early evening, when the door to the room she was in next opened. She sits bolt upright on the cot, ready to face whatever it was that they were going to throw her way now.

Sure enough, in walks the Governor with a young Hispanic man she didn't recognize, although there is blood splattered across his shirt and on his knuckles, which makes her gut roll with anxiety.

The Governor is the first to speak, leaning against the wall and examining his cuticles, which are outlined in rusty powder- blood. "We've made a deal with dear Mr. Dixon," he says, not bothering to look up at her.

Carol's throat runs dry and she can only manage a small nod, lips pursed to the point where the blood was draining out of them.

He keeps talking. "I'm sure you're dying to know what exactly our offer is, aren't you?" He says, looking up at her with distaste.

Carol doesn't answer, afraid of what she'll hear. Fortunately, she doesn't have to wait long, because the man just keeps talking. "He's leaving," this gets Carol's attention, and she whips her head up, "going back for Michonne."

Carol's eyebrows pull together and she frowns. "He's bringing her here?"

The Governor laughs harshly. "No, no, on the contrary," he says, walking around her in circles, his lips curled up. "He's going back for her. We made an offer he couldn't resist, you stay here, and he gets to go with the samurai."

Carol feels tears spring to her eyes and she shakes her head. "No... He, he wouldn't," she whispers, "he loves me." The last part comes out weaker than she means, followed by a small sob.

The Governor just clicks his tongue. "Now, now, I'm sure you knew that wasn't true. In fact, when we offered him, he laughed. Said he was better off without you anyway. That you were just a burden. An attention whore," he smirks evilly, "no more to him than a physical release." His voice is soft, silky, and strangely seductive. And she believes him, though her tears are flowing freely now and she's been reduced to a sniveling mess, she believes every word he's saying- because she'd been told it all before.

"Don't you see? He chose her. He'll always choose her."

* * *

***Runs away* don't kill me, please! I left this one off with a big cliff hanger, I know, but hopefully chapter 5 will be up soon! **


	5. Author Update 1

**Hi everyone! I'd really like to thank everyone for sticking this story out, as it is my first multi section fic that I will actually be continuing with. **

**Just a few quick things: **

*****I do not own anything. I am just borrowing the characters. **

**1. Chapter 5 is in the process of being written, and I'd like to hear any ideas that you guys might have! I'd like to take fan ideas and incorporate them into new chapters, although I do have a general idea of where I want this story to go. **

**2. I'd like to hear from you guys. Any little bit of encouragement is great, but I also want to know if there is anything you guys would like to change or if there is any way that I could make my writing better. :) This is ****_your_**** story too. **

**3. This fic ****_will_**** probably be bumped up to M rating for mature themes, although I don't plan on it being anything ****_too_**** in detail. That being said, if anyone is particularly strong at writing these kind of scenarios, please PM me, as that would be greatly appreciated. **

**That's all for now, everyone! Let me know what you think so far. :)**


End file.
